


i'll steal the stars for you

by onwardlexa (NoxWrites)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Supergirl!Clarke, batgirl!raven, born of two worlds!au, nightwing!bellamy, side braven, wonder woman!lexa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:25:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoxWrites/pseuds/onwardlexa
Summary: Born on Krypton but living on Earth after her planet's destruction, Clarke Griffin has lived most of her life as a normal human until she was forced to take action and began her crusade as Supergirl. Five years later and she has saved her city time and time again, but when she is called to action someone has beaten her to the fight. Will she be able to work with this "Wonder Woman"? Will they ever realize it would be easier to fight together than on their own?
or 
born of two worlds!au





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> the first chapter is very much of a set up for the rest of the story. some hints as to what is to come and some happy Clarke with friends. I hope you all enjoy this trip with me, and as always have a great day!
> 
> find me on tumblr @ lexaluthor

_ 3, 2, 1...  _

 

The numbers repeat in her head, each floor taking three seconds to ascend with thirty-two floors between the ground floor and the media floor. That’s ninety-six seconds wasted in an elevator with three other employees at CatCo along with her newest article tucked in her messenger bag. Her head raises as the final bell goes off, she’s out of the elevator and pulling her article out on instinct. 

 

_ 2, _ 1…

 

An older man is taking her notebook along with the coffee offered by an intern. She pauses as his hoard of followers passes before she can resume the path to her seat. The small desk is tucked away in the corner across from John Murphy who is furiously typing away at his desktop. The one keyboard attached to three screens he uses to have  _ maximum efficiency.  _ She rolls her eyes,  _ Maximum efficiency and he still can’t get his articles in on time.  _

 

“Morning, Griffin.”

 

“Murphy.” 

 

The two actually get along quite well but when the tensions have been running high throughout the office they have no time for pleasantries. Being in the fourth quarter of the year, CatCo is still trying to make the farthest leap ahead of other media outlets they can before the new year. 

 

She glances at her watch as she seats herself in the office chair. 

 

_ 5, 4… _

 

Each pen from her bag is removed and placed onto the desk along with her three tattered notebooks. The only decent looking one she owns is for assignments. Her computer is still in sleep mode and it will remain so for another thirty minutes. 

 

_ 3, 2, 1… _

 

“Griffin!” Standing halfway outside the main office door is the editor in chief, staring at his watch then glancing up at her. 

 

She stands, pats down her red cardigan and fixes her glasses. Making her way over to him she is rushed with questions some young reporters she used to tutor. She’s able to flag them off but she knows it’ll only last so long. 

 

A light rap on the glass door, her boss’ grimy fingers motion forward for her to enter. The notebook is set on the glass coffee table in the center of the room, she grabs it and flips to the first available page. Ready for any criticism he shoots at her. Her eyes dart back on the editor before he begins to speak. 

 

His glasses, usually framed on his face, are being twirled between his forefinger and thumb. Stress steams from him, Clarke feels her stress levels rising just from watching her editor sit in his chair. 

 

“Ms. Griffin, I don’t know how you get interviews first and exclusively with Supergirl but for that reason alone is why CatCo is still placed as the highest media company in America. So, keep doing whatever the hell it is you’re doing. Dismissed.” He turns his chair toward the wall behind him and Clarke stares with slack in her jaw,  _ he’s usually more crude _ , she thinks. 

 

Without questioning the compliment she walks back towards her desk until a chime is heard throughout the 33rd floor. As if mentally connected, all the office heads spin to the large monitors on the center wall. The usually calm news reporters of  _ National Six News,  _ have broken their calm and joking banter and sit with a stoic expression as the report is displayed. 

 

_ Breaking News: Robbery at National City Bank, estimated nine hostages and two injured. No demands, will update as the incident continues.  _

 

At the word ‘robbery’, Clarke was already scanning the room for Monty who was set at the fire escape motioning for her to follow. Her notebook was tossed onto the desk, long forgotten, and she took off to meet Monty. Her cardigan came off in a flash, and the button up beneath was ripped so her suit came out easily. The bright blue torso piece stands out, a symbol for hope, the red  _ S _ embroidered on her chest. She pulls her heels off and makes the quick switch to crimson boots. Monty pulled the red cape from behind the radiator to attach it before she took off. 

 

With an earth shattering force Clarke was off of the building and in the air. Her article long forgotten as she flew through the air with ease. The ground previously beneath her has been cracked and broken, she left Monty in the dust of her exit. 

 

She tries to remind herself to apologize to Monty once she’s back, but it is pushed to the back of her mind. Everything is simply forgotten as she feels like a weightless body floating through the air. She is going at mach one but when you break the sound barrier enough you realize everything beneathbeneath you is going slow. The air around you slows, the movement beneath you seems to halt, and the world pauses for a fraction of a second. 

 

Her fraction of a second finishes and she is back into reality. The red and blue police lights begin enlarging as she approaches. 

 

It is an easy three minute flight when she lands behind the police barrier of the bank. Except, the barrier is being pulled back. And, the criminals are walking out with their hands behind their head? And some brunette is standing with the police commissioner wearing golden boots, a golden embroidered outfit with red and blue and has a large sword and shield strapped to her back?

 

“All done, Supergirl.” One of the younger officers acknowledges her as she stands in confusion. 

 

A shake of her head and she’s walking towards the woman and commissioner. The two chat and he smiles to the woman, Clarke just stands behind the brunette with her arms folded over her chest. 

 

“Ah, Supergirl, this is Wonder Woman. She’s going to be in National City for a few weeks. I’m looking forward to the massive crime rate drop.” The commissioner smiles thinkinng his joke was hilarious, he says his goodbyes and walks back towards his cruiser.  _ Wonder woman, _ turns around to face her.

 

And holy Krypton. Not only is she gorgeous she looks like a goddess. A jawline that could cut through Clarke without kryptonite and cheekbones sculpted from greek marble statues. Her iridescent eyes are scanning Clarke in a similar way. Dark brown hair is held by a golden circlet out of her face, but the rest of her hair falls delicately behind her back to frame her face. Her stance changes to open legs and arms folding over her chest, an aggressive move. Clarke feels intimidated for a moment before she remembers she is from Krypton, the last daughter of her planet. So she stands up straight with her legs braced and her arms tightening with anger at the audacity of some stranger taking over her crime. Yes the more the merrier but no, not merry, Clarke is not merry. 

 

“You were too slow.” The woman huffs as if that explains anything and Clarke is even more baffled. 

 

The two have a staring match, Clarke can feel her blood boil. This woman had no right to come into her city and take her job. She was about to snap at her but a tall shaggy haired boy comes trotting over to Clarke. 

 

“Supergirl!” is being called from behind her. He’s gotten taller from the last time they spoke. His hair has gotten loose and long around his face but still out of his eyes. The freckles of his sun kissed face stick out in the sunlight. Knowing him since childhood is nice for her to be reminded that she isn’t quite alone on this foreign planet. A light smile plays on her lips as she looks to him but when she turns to face him and then back at  _ wonder woman _ , the woman who is now gone. She puffs out air in annoyance before turning to greet an old friend. 

 

“Bellamy!” Her hands are up and around his neck in moments. His arms wrap around her as well and they embrace for a moment. 

 

“Supergirl! Wow it has been too long, you’re fixing problems in under five minutes. How’d you get here so fast?” He looks from his watch to the bank and finally to her, who has a frustrated expression plastered on her face. 

 

“I didn’t some ‘Wonder Woman’ got here first.” She rolls her eyes but relaxes a bit as Bellamy chuckles. 

 

“Yeah isn’t she awesome?” He continues while not noticing the irritated expression working its way onto Clarke’s face. “She’s been helping out Ra–, the Bat around Gotham recently.” When he registers the frustration of Clarke’s expression he coughs to try and reset the conversation. “Hey, don’t look so glum. Now you can take a long overdue vacation!” His chuckle resonates from a place of compassion and it makes her crack a smile to the young officer. 

 

“Whatever detective.” She notices the apprehension in his eyes at the nickname. The body language makes her want to pry open what is happening with him. “How is Gotham’s police department treating you?” The nervous laughter and scratching of his neck, Clarke’s suspicions grow a bit. 

 

“It’s going great. Octavia got a promotion, an official officer.” He leans on his heels as the two continue their catch-up conversation. 

 

“No longer a beat cop. Must be hard for big brother to even let her take that final test, eh?” 

 

He laughs but before he can respond Clarke’s phone rings.  _ Monty Green _ . 

 

“I gotta take off, duty calls. Bye, Bell!” 

 

Without any other warning she’s up in the air and the ground previously beneath her is encompassed in dust. 

 

―

 

Nineteen incidents in National City,  _ nineteen _ , and Clarke has been late to them all. Technically she isn’t late, that  _ wonder woman _ keeps showing up while she is still in the air. She swears there is more than one of them but those eyes are one in a million and there could not be a duplicate of them in the universe. 

 

With the head of the DEO being off in Gotham for the past weeks she has been able to take the time to slack off her average duties. She takes the time, of no longer being needed to protect the city and not having a superior breathing down her neck, to start non-stop training at the DEO. Speed is what she is pushing for, so she goes faster and faster with each training session. With each passing days of the week she feels stronger and faster but after doing a few chores of picking off criminals she’s still not fast enough. Whether  _ Wonder Woman _ means to entice her into training each day to get stronger is beyond Clarke but she doesn’t really care, if the woman wants to continue playing on her field she’ll play ball. 

 

“Supergirl.” She stops in her tracks, turning on the heels of her shiny red boots to face the head of the DEO. Her training session of the day long forgotten. 

 

Wells stares at her with a stern scowl and his arms crossed. The black standard issued polo outfit is so small his muscles strain the fabric as he tenses. His father helped Clarke settle into Earth and she was forever grateful. But since helping Clarke since she came to Earth, he never cuts her slack. 

 

She stands up straight with her hands behind her back and under the cape. “Director Jaha.” Her light hearted tone is redirected into a firm tone as she turns on her  _ superhero _ mode.

 

The two stare for a moment, and she can’t quite tell if he’s mad or just welcoming her, but his expression breaks almost immediately as he leans forward to embrace Clarke. The two happily hug until he deems it time to get back to work, the hard shell molded by his father slipping back onto his skin. So he begins to walk with Clarke in the direction of the main operations deck. 

 

“To what do we owe the pleasure of Supergirl?” There is a smile playing on his lips even with an authoritative tone. The sincere smile is contagious. 

 

She chuckles a bit before breaking into a smile as well. But Clarke returns to a bottle of rage as she remembers what has been showing her up since two weeks ago, “Wells, do you have any information on a  _ ‘Wonder Woman’ _ ?” 

 

Wells looks to her with confusion written across his face, then looks down at the officer at the desk. A quick conversation between the two and Wells motions for Clarke to walk with him to the interview room. He locks the door and unplugs the security camera of the interview room. 

 

“Why is the door locked and why are in a secure room?” She takes a seat on the metal bench in the back of the room. 

 

“Wonder Woman. She’s runs the Justice League from Themyscira but is never seen in public. Never does an interview, never stays to clean up. The media has accepted she’ll fight but won’t clean up, no one knows why but they accept it. And now—” 

 

“And now she’s in public, talking to the police and fighting crooks in National City. So something has to be happening here?” Clarke walks in circles with her chin set in her hand as the pieces connect and pats his shoulders before taking off and _ through _ the metal locked door. Her natural curiosity peeks and now a plan to find even more answers formulates in her mind, “Thanks Wells.”

 

“Clarke!” his call is a lost echo being her as she runs down the hall, secretly to escape the wrath of breaking a metal door but also to the hangar, and takes off to the sky. 

 

Above the city she can see everything with the help of no one, her own personal satellite. With her x-ray vision she can only see so much, like the workers arguing in the laundromat, and the parents walking their kids down the street, but what she can’t see is the thing she needs the most. 

 

Her eyes continue to scan the city like a bird from above, “Monty I need any police incident Wonder Woman will most likely be near.” 

 

_ “On it Griff.” _

 

_ “Blood Bank at National Highschool just got robbed and based on triangulation that is right in her area of one upping you. No offense.” _

 

“Thank you Monty.” She rolls her eyes and starts her path for National City High School.

 

Luckily, right around the corner, National High hasn’t been taken over by any mystery woman.The barricade is still up, no sign of the woman of wonder. She hovers for a moment above the scene, eyes glossing over the faces and outfits of individual people. She starts her descent until something is tight around her ankles and she’s being pulled to the ground against her will. The concrete hits against her and she can feel it rattle her bones. Her hands prop up her body enough so she can get back to her feet, the restricting object has finally been removed. 

 

Her eyes heat up as she turns to face her opponent, “What the hell!” Heat vision ready to fire but she gives the attacker a moment to explain themselves. 

 

What she was expecting was some henchmen of Titus Technology’s. What she got was the opposite, standing thirty feet away from her is the  _ wonder woman.  _ Rolling up some form of flaxen rope, the attacker of Clarke’s ankles most likely, and then it sits in a small strap of her golden belt. Her gold has been tainted by the dirt of daily heroism, Clarke knows from experience. The woman across from her paces back and forth in the middle of the street. Clad in the same blue and red costume with white stars and stripes. 

 

She calms herself to not release the heat vision before she begins to pat herself of the concrete dust, “What do you want?”

 

“You’re interfering with something which you can’t see the entirely. I don’t want to take you off this crusade of yours but I will ground you if you interfere further.” The woman’s voice shakes Clarke’s boots for a moment. It’s authoritative unlike her snark of their original conversation, if you can call only a sentence a conversation. 

 

She stands her ground and gathers her solidarity. “ _ You’ll ground me?  _ You aren’t some mighty mother so I’ll continue until my city is safe.” Clarke jumps to take off but her ankles are once again restricted. She connects with concrete again and when she turns around Wonder Woman is standing above her. 

 

“Don’t test me, Clarke.” 

 

For a moment she’s taken aback by those green eyes but then her senses are knocked back in place. “How do you know my—

 

Wonder Woman steps back and is running down the street before she leaps high enough to scale the buildings of the market district. For a moment Clarke thought it was flying but she can see the brown hair descend behind the buildings. 

 

—name?” She grunts and stands back up with her cape dusty and bones sore. Ready to get home and not deal with the necessity of being a hero. But first, work. 

 

Her alarm goes off,  _ 4:30pm _ . Seeing the blood bank robbery was stopped with police supervision she can safely go to work without worrying. She takes off and around the buildings until she sees her normal exit at CatCo’s service exit cleared of pedestrians. Clarke lands softly, as not to shake the entire building, and sets herself behind the radiator to do a quick clothing change before walking into the office. 

 

She sets herself down at her desk but her inbox has a new assignment waiting for her. With a groan she pulls out the clear faced folder, her name scribbled in large sharpie, and begins flipping through. 

 

It takes her an hour to go through the assignment background and then thirty minutes of anger before opening a document. With another ten minutes she hasn't even begun typing anything about the assignment,  _ Supergirl, or Super Fraud? Why isn’t supergirl saving our city? _ The frustration of not only her project but that Wonder Woman knows who she is gets to her head. 

 

She’s still a bit sore which shouldn’t be happening and to help she has Murphy humming across from her. 

 

“Could you please, shut up.” It’s a hiss filled with poison and Murphy looks taken aback by the blatant crudeness of the comment. 

 

“What’s gotten into you?” He rolls his chair away from the computers so he has a clear view of Clarke. “You look awful, like sore and sick. You’ve been gone for two weeks. Why do you look like an injured puppy?”

 

That was the last straw because there was no way Wonder Woman actually injured her. “I’m not injured!” She snaps and the boy backs away for a moment with his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry Murphy. Just bad couple of weeks.” 

 

But that doesn’t mean the week is over. Far from it for Clarke. 

 

“Griffin!” 

 

Her head turns at the only noise in the mute journalism room. With a menacing scowl on the editor in chief’s face, Clarke doesn’t hesitate to stand and walk towards the main office. 

 

“Oh, someone’s in trouble.” Murphy’s callout irritates the reporter more so, she places a hand behind her back and middle finger up. 

 

She can still hear his chuckle as she closes the glass door. A finger points down to the closest available chair, she makes her way into it as the man stands and begins pulling down blinds. She isn’t fond of how the light of the room leaves and is replaced with a dark scene. 

 

“Sir, I—

 

His finger waves in front of her, wanting her silence, as he sits in his chair. “Griffin, two weeks. It has been two weeks since Wonder Woman has shown up. Two weeks and no media outlet has gotten an interview or comment from her. I hope you have something for us.”

 

She swallows her pride, because of course Wonder Woman is at the front of CatCo’s mind. “I have  _ something. _ ” An obvious lie she hopes he can’t see through. “But I’m going to need a bit more time. A week?” 

 

His eyes clearly say no as their framed by a furrowed brow directed at her. Yet, shockingly with a huff of air, he agrees, “A week Griffin.” 

 

A nod and she’s out the door, sitting back in her desk. Putting her notebooks into her bag so she can finally end the torturous week, she doesn’t notice the report being placed on her inbox. 

 

A faint voice speaks up as not to draw attention to them, “I need help.”

 

“Murphy, not now. I have to go.” She can practically feel his cold hard stare burning in the back of her head. 

 

“Please, it’s right up your alley. Gotham’s Polaris Tech CEO here in National City and staying at the Themyscira Hotel.” When her eyes glance back at Murphy he’s holding the report out to her with a puppy dog look. 

 

“John.” She draws out the last half of his name. “I have an assignment already and apparently an assignment I didn’t even know I had until right now which is apparently already late.”

 

His look doesn’t falter and, if it’s even possible, he gets even more sad. She puffs out her frustration before taking the folder in hand and flipping it open for a review. 

 

_ Assignment: John Murphy _

 

  * __Polaris Tech CEO: Lexa Woods__


  * _Arrived in National City as of October 13th, 2016._



 

_ *Note: This is due by the end of the month. Murphy, this is your last shot.  _

 

“Hey John.” She has a quizzical look on her face as she looks between Murphy and the report. 

 

“Clarke how many times do I have to say not to call me that. What?” His eyes roll as he takes a seat and begin his other assignments. 

 

“When did Wonder Woman show up?”

 

“Have you seriously not been keeping up with this? She’s the leader of the Justice League and from some mythical women only island that they named an entire hotel chain after!” 

 

Once his quick admiration session was done she raised her eyebrows awaiting an answer. 

 

“October 12th, why?”

 

“Thanks John. Got to go!” Her hands shove the assignment folder into her bag and finishes packing. 

 

“Clarke!” 

 

She chuckles to herself for making him frustrated, but then remembers what she’s doing and runs to the elevator hitting 32 repeatedly. 

 

When the door opens after an entire 3 seconds that she has wasted, Clarke rushes from the door to the four computers in the center of the floor. Taking a seat in a nearby rolling chair, she pushes herself to Monty’s desk. 

 

“I need your help.” She puts her arms over the back of the chair as she sits backwards. The girl’s chin rests on her upper arm. 

 

“Of course you do, I’m amazing.” His little cocky attitude calls for Clarke ruffling his hair. “What’s up, Griff?”

 

Her voices drops to a whisper, “How likely is it that CEO Lexa Woods is Wonder Woman?”

 

He doesn’t seem to care much for secrecy, “Improbable. She’s a massive public figure and has cameras on her all day. So how would she even escape them to get dressed and head out to lead the Justice League? And besides everyone knows Wonder Woman goes home to Themyscira after battles. So a massive company CEO who is busy and in the public every day is not Wonder Woman.”

 

Clarke doubts her assumption for a moment but as if on que, Jasper Jordan wheels his chair to be facing the two in conversation. “I heard woman.”

 

She rolls her eyes before getting an idea, “How likely would it be for a superhero to be a public figure?”

 

He smirks as if he is the expert on superhero unmasking. “It’s all in the eyes. See eyes tell you everything. Say someone suggested, I don’t know, that Clarke was Supergirl.” He laughs at himself like that was impossible. Unbeknownst to him Clarke and Monty are sharing a look to prevent themselves from laughing at his own ignorance. “Sorry just a funny thought. Anyway, I would immediately know Clarke isn’t Supergirl. She wears these cheap ten dollar glasses.” He plucks the glasses from Clarke’s face. “Supergirl has x-ray vision!” 

 

Clarke snatches her glasses back while using her self control to not sizzle Jasper in the middle of the tech floor at CatCo. After the frames are settled lightly on her nose, she clicks everything into place. Those green eyes that haunt her. “Thanks boys!” Her hands go to ruffle their hair as she is off and back to the elevator to the ground floor. 


	2. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking off right after we left our heroes, Lexa's first introduction along with Clarke's interview of her. With a very special encounter finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my apologies for this taking as long as it did! I had no real will to edit the chapter once I finished writing it. The next one should be out much sooner than this one was. 
> 
> and as always, you can find me on tumblr @wonderwlws
> 
> thank you and enjoy!

She walks away from leaping the building unscathed, landing delicately on the concrete ground behind the old drug store and walking away from where she left Supergirl. 

 

The woman makes it back to her residence unseen, it’s simple to get back into the top floor of the Themyscira Hotel with a single jump. Her patio door is unlocked just as she left it, light on in the front. When she enters the room it’s quiet, no noise other than the soft radiator blowing new air into the penthouse. 

 

Her attempt to be silent is a success as she makes it into the bedroom, removing heavy metal bracers and a headband made of gold. She opens the chest at the foot of the bed, placing the metal on top of a blanket like a newborn baby into the cradle. 

 

Once her Wonder Woman attire is placed into its crate, she stands to change into her sleeping clothes. A nice pair of boyshorts and her sports bra. Without brushing her teeth or hair, her body collapses into the king size bed. 

 

Her muscles ache and scream at her from

the day’s events. Trying to pull down an alien from mid flight is straining. When her arm finds the light stand, she turns the entire penthouse off for the darkness of night to take over. 

 

But it’s not so simple. Her eyes squint as the lights turn on immediately.  _ Fuck.  _

 

“Lexa Woods.” Anya stands with arms folded over her chest at the foot of Lexa’s bed. “It’s twelve in the morning. What the hell are you doing?”

 

“Partying.” She tries to sell the lie with a groan as she rolls onto her side. Sleep already coating her voice. 

 

“Bullshit.” Her sister doesn’t move and she criticizes herself for even bringing Anya along. When Anya finally moved she hit something with a loud  _ thud _ , like foot against wood. “You’re fuckin kidding me.”

 

Lexa turned around once more to face her sister, the woman peering down at the same spot Lexa had recently been at to hide her armor. Her breath stopped for a moment, Anya knows that box and has seen it many times before. 

 

“You told me this was Polis business only. Is this why you didn’t pay for the cable in the penthouse?” Anya huffed and let out a long groan as she took the box farther out into open view. 

 

“It technically is for Polis business but also some other business.” Lexa began to pull the covers over her freezing body. 

 

Any glared at her but then looked down at the chest, lifting it up to her chest with both hands before walking out. 

 

“Anya? Anya!” Lexa kicked her covers off before taking after her sister. “What are you doing?”

 

“You have an interview with a John Murphy from CatCo tomorrow, so, assuming it will be one of your office interviews I’m putting your toy chest in my room.” Anya shoved the wooden box into her closet. 

 

Lexa clenched her jaw, knowing her sister was right but she didn’t quite care, the box belonged to her and she needed it within reach. She couldn’t win this battle so she conceded, retreating to her room with frustration but other things on her mind, such as the interview for tomorrow and a blonde alien. 

 

—

 

Notes gathered, questions written, detective mode turned on. Clarke’s out her apartment door with her messenger bag prepped and strapped over her shoulder. Glasses tucked into the shirt pocket of her blouse are now framed on her face as she heads downstairs. The rush of fresh air hits her as she makes her way out of the building and down to Themyscira Hotel. 

 

Traffic through National City is an Earth aspect she has learned to love. Raven wants to throw a book at her whenever she says that but her sister has always been overdramatic. So walking an extra ten minutes due to traffic doesn’t bother her as much as it would for others. She takes her time and the walk actually has an extra twelve minutes due to the stop at a newsstand with her article plastered across the front page. 

 

She hated doing it but journalism doesn’t have opinions, it has facts. So she wrote it and moved on, the issue would be replaced by the end of the week. 

 

Clarke ends her walk at the front of Themyscira Hotel, golden rods uprooted from  the ground to hold an awning with red sown into the material. The valets wearing red suits with golden embroidery, one or two workers have blue uniforms but they stand within the front office of the hotel. 

 

Her eyes wander the paintings and statues of the hotel. All statues seem to depict women in similar armor to that of Wonder Woman, some on horse-back, some with bows or swords. 

 

“Ma’am?” A burly man at the front, one of the blue uniformed men, calls Clarke’s attention to focus. “May I help you?”

 

_ Gustus _ can be read from his nametag. “Yes, Gustus, I am Clarke Griffin here for an interview with Lexa Woods.”

 

Before answering her he reads an open booklet on the counter out of Clarke’s sight. “The interview is supposed to be conducted by one John Murphy.”

 

“John wasn’t able to make it, he’s feeling under the weather. I’m his replacement.” She pulls her I.D. up to his view and pulls out the form of substitution which transfers the article to Clarke.

 

“One moment.” He turns around to the office phone, picking it up and motioning for Clarke to take a seat. 

 

As she backs up, away from the desk, her left shoulder collides with something strong and solid. Praying it’s not the statues she turns to see a man, possibly mid-thirties, with scarring on his temples stumbling backwards. She reaches out to pull him back upward, his suit wrinkles under her fingers and when he stands up his hand swats her away. 

 

“Bloody children, not watching where you are walking with your face buried in a shiny screen. The insolence your generation possesses is astounding.” He brushes at his suit and pats down some wrinkles. 

 

Clarke looks at him in disbelief, “I’m no child and I wasn’t even looking at my phone. I’m a reporter from CatCo and was simply turning around.”

 

“Even worse. Reporters. Thinking the world revolves around what they have to say and what they produce. You’re all simply here to talk about what happens to people more important than you.” He straightens his tie and walks away, shoving Clarke’s shoulder with his own as a last attack on her. 

 

She stands with boiling rage filling her blood. “Jerk-face.”

 

A cough from the front desk, “Miss Woods, will see you now. Farthest elevator on the right.”

 

_ Of course this woman has her own elevator _ . She brushes off the encounter with the man from the lobby as she waits for the elevator to arrive. A ding and an opening door is her que to enter the small box. Except it’s not so small, and a man stands to operate the elevator with a tray of small snacks on a cart to his left. 

 

As soon as she enters she is offered a tray of cubed cheese but declines. So he pushes the only button on the elevator, rising to the top floor with a nice elevator tune to get stuck in her head playing. 

 

As the door opens the attendee motions towards the exit as if she couldn’t see it. Clarke nods her head lightly before exiting and faces the hallway leading to the single door at the end. She approaches the red wooden door with caution, and her hand goes to knock but it opens before she has a chance to move. 

 

Her hands grip the messenger bag strap. “Ms. Woods is in her main office, down the corner to the right.” A blonde woman walks past her, not making eye contact and staring down at a tablet. 

 

Ignoring the blatant rudeness of her first encounter with what seems to be Lexa Woods’ assistant, Clarke walks down the corner on the right hand side of door. A white glossy door stares at her, she knocks lightly while trying to relax her grip on the bag strap and her muscles. 

 

A soft voice greets her, “Please come in.”

 

So she does, and when she enters the pristine room it’s spotless, other than the furniture and few decor items there is no clutter of papers or stacks of work like Clarke had expected. 

 

“Ms. Woods, I am Clarke Griffin. I’ll be handling your interview as Murphy is not feeling well.” She walks farther into the office with her hands rustling in her bag to pull out the notepad and pen. 

 

“Please, Ms. Woods is my mother, call me Lexa.” She stands and reaches out to take Clarke’s hand. 

 

The shake is firm, and this is the first time she can fully take in the woman before her. No glasses, Jasper’s theory may be right but glasses also can be used as a barrier to protect one’s identity. So she continues her analysis and Lexa’s eyes are green, like the fresh grass which comes once winter has left and spring brings in new life. Clarke takes a seat once Lexa lets her grip loosen. Clarke settles down and places the notepad against her thigh, Lexa moves from behind her desk to a chair seated across from Clarke. 

 

“I first wanted to talk about the recent events transpiring between your company and Azgeda..”

 

“..Industries has one of the highest security systems in the world. I don’t understand how you thought this would work.” The comm system clicks off while Raven continues to fight with the lock on top of Azgeda’s roof. She rolls her eyes, moving one hand to mute the comm channel. Her mouth holding one of the locks as she goes to grip another pin. 

 

“Raven you can only mute two channels at a time and you have three.” 

 

“Bellamy. I’m working.” She releases an exasperated sigh, finally moving the last tumbler into place. “And I’m in.” 

 

Her hand pulls back, leaving the pins in the lock and walking into the building. A small hallway leads down to a staircase, with an air vent on the right side before the stairway. 

 

She pulls and prys at the air vent, waiting for the bolts to loosen before tearing it off. The vent is placed on the ground as quiet as she can before she crawls into the vent, tucking her cape in so it doesn’t snag. The dark vent prompts her to adjust the helmets scanners to night vision. 

 

“What am I looking for Bell?” She continues down the ventilation system with coordinates from Bellamy. 

 

“Your first left should bring you into the R&D sublevel of Azgeda Industries. It’ll lead you to a vent shaft that drops about ten feet.” She can hear him sucking on a lollipop from his location back at base. 

 

When she reaches the shaft, her hands grip the claw and laser cutter attached to her belt. She makes a whole within the vent edge to wrap the fiber around. Once the cutter is placed back onto the belt she begins wrapping the rope tight enough to hold her. Leaning forward, over the edge, she begins to descend the vent. Her hand reaches out to steady herself once she reaches the ground, cutting off the rope and continuing her search. 

 

“Now what do I need..”

 

“..in order to fully comprehend the exchanges between Polis Inc and Azgeda Industries?”

 

Clarke looked down at her notes and back to Lexa, she has risen and walked around her office multiple times. Her green eyes never leave Clarke, always watching under those long eyelashes. Clarke notices how she shifts her jaw while trying to determine her next words or how her nails will tap against the glass, one after another. 

 

“The relationship was founded between Ms. Queen and my mother, they both formed their companies nearly the same time but with different goals. Constantly competing with each other I sought to change the competition into a coalition, a way that both companies succeed.” She takes a long drink of water and tenses before continuing. “There were very difficult times were we, butted heads to say the least.” 

 

Clarke nodded along, scribbling notes while listening to the story which appears more personal than the CEO lets on. 

 

“And as a successful business woman, what does your free time consist of?” Clarke turns to the next page.

 

“What does the free time of successful women usually look like?” She fires back at Clarke while returning to the couch, closer this time. 

 

“I wouldn’t know, hence the question.” She adjusts her glasses and looks back at the piercing green eyes that seem to follow her. 

 

Lexa’s arm has been draped across the back of the couch, her glass balancing on her knee with support from her hand. “I doubt that you aren’t a successful woman in your field, I only assumed, they must have put their best reporter in charge.”

 

Clarke feels a low heat rise to her neck and cheeks, “Murphy was originally your assigned interviewer.”

 

“Yes but Murphy is not the one here.” Lexa shows some emotion for once with the slightest upturn of a smirk. 

 

“I guess you are..”

 

“...right, I said right Raven!” Bellamy shouted into the coms as Raven enters the twisted maze that is Azgeda Industries. She had dropped down when Bellamy told her to but sounded the alarm as soon as her feet hit the floor. 

 

“I’m still looking for an exit here!” She shouts as a bullet breezes by her face. A shocked “Fuck,” releases under her breath. 

 

“Language.” 

 

She rolls her eyes and continues the path she’s on, down a corridor and around more hallways. 

 

“Left!”

 

She rolls into the turn as more guards are being called into play. Continuing down the hallway and following Bellamy’s instructions. She ends in a six walled room with her target at the end of the room. 

 

“How are we doing this Blake?”

 

“If you can get me access to the locking mechanism I can take care of the rest as long as those bullets don’t hit me.”

 

With a nod she sprints to the black vault against the far wall, pulling out a black box with two buttons. She clicks the first one, allowing it to expand in her hand with metal legs extending from the corners. As the first few shouts of guards are heard she places the device against the vault’s digital lock. 

 

“You have..”

 

“..an issue, Ms. Woods.” The woman who let Clarke enter the premise returns through a different door which Clarke had not noticed before. 

 

It takes a moment but Lexa’s eyes peel off of Clarke and to her assistant. “Yes Anya?”

 

The conversation becomes a dull buzz in the back of her mind as Clarke’s super hearing hones in on a persistent alarm. 

 

“My apologies–” Both Clarke and Lexa speak at the same time and once they stopped speaking, Anya took the lead. 

 

“Ms. Griffin if I could show you to the door, there is an issue Ms. Woods needs to address.” Clarke nods and waves a farewell to Lexa, out the door and hurrying to the fire stairwell so she can leave. 

 

Her shirt is removed first, and she tucks everything into her messenger bag, hiding it behind a trashcan. Opening the first  _ roof access _ door she sees, Clarke springs from the concrete roof and into the sky. 

 

—

 

Raven barrel rolls behind a control desk within Azgeda’s building. A few shots are fired at the desk and when she heard a clip hit the floor she leaps over the desk, her Batclaw firing at an exposed pipe above three guards. The pipe breaks and releases hot steam directly above them. With their screams causing the comms of each officer to be overwhelmed, Raven fires repeated batarangs until the lights are no longer giving off consistent lighting. She lunges at the group of guards, dragging one into a chokehold and tossing him into another. She lunges and wraps her legs around one’s neck, pulling him to the ground. One stays standing in front of her, gun raised, she prepares to turn and take a bullet into the back so her suit takes the impact. When she’s just about ready to turn, a loud crash comes from the roof like someone punched a hole through the concrete. Which is exactly what happens as Supergirl is now standing above the man previously in front of her. 

 

“I’m in.”

 

“Great timing.”

 

Supergirl eyes her, probably assuming that Raven was speaking to her. So when it doesn’t look like she is going to attack Batgirl, Raven jogs to the vault. The door pressing open from the lock pressure decreasing. She enters the vault, a twenty by twenty room with gadgets lining the wall. Raven hears footsteps behind her, assuming they’re Supergirl, she continues rummaging through crates. 

 

Opening one on the bottom shelf, a black and blue suit with two metal batons are inside, she closes it and pulls it out of the shelf. She leaves the vault, pulling a few random boxes with her. With extra rope, she ties them ontop of each other. 

 

“Sorry Supergirl, but..” She waits until the police sirens are audible and snaps her fingers, “..that’s my cue.” Supergirl turns and looks confused as Raven kicks the vault door closed. 

 

Using the hole in the building made by Supergirl, Raven aims her batclaw, fires and is being lifted out of the building as Supergirl punches a hole in the vault to escape. Officers surround her and Raven’s signature smirk plasters her face as she reaches the rooftop, motorcycle awaiting her. 

  
  


Clarke can see the officers running her way, and she doesn’t have time to chase after the vigilante and not be seen. So she stands and awaits the officers who surround her, they lower their guns upon seeing Supergirl standing amongst the wreck. Though she can easily tell the officers what happened without them thinking she is lying, Nia Queen is not so easy. 

 

The older woman coming towards Clarke with a fire behind her eyes and ten assistants in her wake. “I want her arrested for breaking and entering, robbery, and vandalism.” Clarke rolls her eyes and the audacity of this woman. 

 

An officer comes around to speak with Ms. Queen, her anger increasing when they refuse to detain Supergirl. Clarke moves past them, some shouts coming from Queen and her assistants. When she is outside, National City has decided to wake up, reporters pushing their way through the crowds and trying desperately to pass the police enforcing the barrier. SWAT trucks and k-9 units settle within the perimeter, Nia Queen pulled out all of the stops. 

 

She makes her way to the police commissioner, wanting to make it back to Themyscira’s hotel in order to grab her bag and return home. Sadly, it will be taking far longer than she wishes.

 

“Supergirl.” Clarke turns to the sound of her name, standing ten feet away is none other than Lexa Woods. 

 

“Le-” She clears her throat, “Ms. Woods, if you are as worried as your partner that I stole something, I can assure you that I did not. There was a vigilante and I came only when the alarm was set off.” 

 

“I do not care for the attack on Azgeda Industries, they will not suffer heavily, they never do.” She looks behind Clarke’s shoulder and Clarke tilts her head to see the police commissioner leaving the two. She takes a step closer and looks around, Clarke can see she stand a little on edge. “What was in that vault?”

 

“Excuse me?” Clarke takes a quick step back but Lexa approaches her, closer this time. 

 

“What was in the vault? Nia only allows access to herself and her son. So what was in that vault?” Clarke sees the woman cross her arms, growing impatient with Clarke’s confusion. 

 

“I didn’t see it clearly, since it’s night and the vigilante broke the lighting. The only thing I saw was cases of what appeared to be memorabilia.” Lexa nods her head and begins to walk away, Clarke reaches out and grabs her hand. She was expecting Lexa to fall back or tumble because of her own strength but Lexa was a rooted tree, sturdy and unwavering. She turned to face Clarke with a murderous glare, but Clarke did not let go of the grip she had on Lexa’s hand. “Why is it so important you know what’s in that vault?”

 

Lexa thrusts her hand out of Clarke’s grip, which should not be possible, and turns her body to square up with Clarke. Her eyes warn Clarke to never do that again, but Clarke gets lost in the specks of brown in the center of her eyes. “You will know in due time, goodbye.”

 

With that, Clarke is on her own, watching Lexa Woods walk away and still confused as to the importance of Azgeda’s vault. 

 

“Supergirl!” A young officer motions for her to join him inside the building. 

When she reaches the room of the large vault, she stands above CSI agents, plucking remains of the lights and some other capsule remains from the incident. 

 

Her head turns slightly when she hears a high pitched shout, “No, Captain it’s fine no one needs to check inventory of the vault, I am positive nothing was taken.”

 

Clarke stares at Nia for a moment, the secrecy of that vault prying her attention away from the crime scene. Her x ray vision allows her a better look at inside the vault, miscellaneous cases were littered inside, some organized with letters and numbers but most simply tossed above another. Two spots looked unoccupied, most likely what the vigilante did indeed steal. 

 

“Supergirl, here was what I wanted to show you.” The young officer hands her the evidence bag.

 

“Thank you, Harper.” She takes the bag while looking at the contents, a metal bat with sharp edges. Different from those that Batman uses she knows for sure, these are made more precise and by a blow torch instead of a steel sharpener. The edges looked smooth and sleek, more deliberately handled than simply grinding the metal against a metal wheel. The bat shape itself is thinner and longer than that of the batarangs she had encountered before with Batman. 

 

_ Batgirl. _

 


End file.
